i want to
by sheriff stilinski
Summary: Go back to the first time, the first place. StilesLydia


Title: i want to

Summary: Go back to the first time, the first place. StilesLydia

Author's Note: Weird story? But. I needed to get this little tid bit out in the open. CAN'T WAIT TILL NEXT WEEK'S EPISODE THANK GODDDDDDDD. Title and Summary come from the Best Coast song "I Want To." (I'm obsessed with it.)

/

There's this one memory that Lydia Martin is afraid of.

/

His voice is loud. The floors of the narrow corridor of Echo House vibrate underneath her. She is scared.

"He touched her, you know," he says, fingertips caressing the concrete walls. He leaves a trail of blood in his wake - Stiles' blood, really. "He touched her and made her howl and you were somewhere else, thinking about him."

There's no reason to deny the truth now.

She keeps running because she is scared and this is what Lydia does best. His voice is so low and gruff. It reminds her of the past. She chokes on the memory she is most scared of and stumbles along, clinging onto something intangible and vague.

/

He had brought bags of food in his left hand and a bag of movies and cards in the other. He had raised them all the way up to his ears and smiled goofily. She, of course, let him in after a moment of consideration.

"Thanks for letting me come in," he said, unceremoniously dropping his bags to the floor. She watched as he peeled off his shoes and, after a beat, his socks were taken off as well.

"Don't get used to it," she said, waving her hand and turning on her heel to go to the kitchen. He grabbed the bags and hastened behind her.

She could tell he was smiling, and in her secrecy, she smiled into her hair as she opened the door. Lydia turned to see Stiles' face as he surveyed the room and took in the high ceilings, the expensive appliances, and the antique clocks that lined the eastern wall, but to her surprise, he did not react to any of these things. Within this brief moment, Lydia tried to grasp the amount of times that this exact event had occurred – how many Friday nights were spent with Stiles and movies and his latest food craving. But the smell of the food lured her away from her thoughts, her hunger giving way, "What do you have this time?"

His incisors were stark against his chapped pink lips when he smiled. "I have a mixture of Thai, Chinese, and Japanese."

Lydia's mouth watered, "Stiles, you are a _God_."

He grinned goofishly and unloaded the food, organizing them into his ever changing categories. Last week, it was by texture. This week, however, tripped Lydia.

She pointed to the four various groups, "How'd you arrange them this time?"

He blushed, "I... I didn't know you noticed."

At the feeling of her own cheeks heating up, she turned away, "What do you want to drink?"

"It's by smell, this time," Stiles said, quickly.

Lydia smiled to herself and pulled out drinks. After a moment, she grabbed the vodka from the cupboard.

Stiles raised his eyebrow, but Lydia just smiled, "We deserve it."

Stiles did not object, just let the loose outline of a secret smile dangle on his lips.

/

For a fox, the Nosgitsune has such loud footsteps.

Lydia feels as if she is perpetually running, but in a moment of realization, she realizes she's been running for much too long.

/

Her tongue was heavy in her mouth.

Stiles had such big brown eyes - so wide and _on her_ and she said something dumb, like, "Stiles, you have soooo blue eyes."

Stiles giggled and threw his arm on her stomach, and Lydia looked at him and looked at him and he looked right back at her in his Stiles way, and then the space between his eyebrows wrinkled, "I have brown eyes, Lydiaaa!"

She started to laugh so hard that her head lolled into his shoulder. The vodka sang in her head and her body seemed too sluggish to move off of Stiles. She laughed so hard that she started to hiccup and laughed more.

"Hey, Lydia," Stiles mumbled.

She looked up at him and his big brown eyes were soft and mushy. Her stomach started to tumble over on top of itself, but, frighteningly, not out of nausea. The fear almost sobered her up immediately.

"Hey Stiles," Lydia said.

For some reason, her eyes were fixed on his lips.

/

"Does it make you sad that she was the one he choose?"

Lydia's pace has slowed considerably. Her left leg almost gives out on her and she knows that the Nosgitsune is not as excited as it once was. She turns around, perhaps out of some leftover pride, and says, "He'll always love me more."

The Nosgitsune sneers, "In all my lifetime, I have never met a banshee this conceited."

Lydia closes her eyes

/

Lydia leaned into Stiles and places her lips on his. He tasted like vodka and sushi and lemongrass, but she does not notice this. His fingers were spread underneath her sweater, tracing spiderwebs across the slight hint of her ribcage, but she did not notice this. He lost his breath much too fast and separated himself from her quickly, but she did not notice this.

He touched the side of her face and leaned his forehead against hers, but her eyes did not meet his.

"You'll always love me," she said, which came out more arrogant than intended, but Stiles did not blink.

"Yeah, Lydia," he said. The stark soberness of his voice made her see the bags underneath his eyes. He dropped his hands to hers, "I will."

She put her lips against his – a whisper of a kiss, "Good."

He pulled her in for more, but kept smiling, and she kept laughing, and the movie in the background stopped making sense.

/

and screams.

_Stiles_, she screams._ Stiles, I'm here. I'm here._

She starts running again, rejuvenated by some mystical force, and smiles to herself, tears running down her face.

Stiles will be here soon enough.

/

Of course, you have to remember that Lydia Martin is not afraid of anything.


End file.
